Monthly Archives: March 2011

My uncle called us up and said he’s fixed the Volvo–it was a cracked distributor cap. One of our neighbors (a retired cop who doesn’t have much to do anymore) offered to give me a ride down to Olathe to pick it up. So that sounds like it will all work out.

Ah, but there’s a hitch.

I believe I mentioned a while back that my Uncle’s houseboat was due for it’s scheduled refit–it turns out that there is significant water damage to all the plywood. In his own words: “Don’t know if it wouldn’t be cheaper to scrap it and buy a new boat.” So in lieu of payment on the Volvo work, I’ve been shanghaied into his demolition crew for this afternoon and possibly tomorrow. I told him that I’m good at demo, but offer no guarantee on the quality of the rebuild…

The local college is having a career fair today (with a pretty dismal booth number, but that’s beside the point). What’s more, my mother has threatened to disown me if I don’t go, so, dismal booth number and all, off I go. And the policy for CCW on campus is so convoluted I don’t think I want to try it. Which kinda stinks because the new 642 fits so nice in the front pocket of my dress khakis…

If it wasn’t trying to be “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” it would have been a lot better. As it is, I just feel let down by the excellent (and short) action scenes. It needed more B-25’s and Steampunk Zombie Krauts. Now, two hours of that would’ve been amazing.

Unfortunately, the movie didn’t have enough like this.

It’s weird that the parts that are set in the real(er) life were the parts that strained credibility.

Oh, and by the way, there was quite a bit of 1911 action going on in there, so it was good that I saw it on the 100th anniversary of the Army’s adoption of the 1911 pistol.

My friend the history major is a big movie buff, and mentioned that he was thinking on seeing “Sucker Punch.” I thought, “what the heck, it looks like fun,” so I’m off to the theater tonight. Though the sticker price on a seat at the fancy new theater is pretty steep–I think it’s up to 14 bucks or something ridiculous.

As I had to go to that area yesterday to ship off my computer anyway, I decided to go search for the BLM shooting range I’ve heard of that’s out behind the airport. To make a long story short, I found it. Because it was a rainy Monday at 2:00 in the afternoon, I even found it empty! A nice little structure with a long concrete table.

The recoil is, shall we say, stout. I think it even shook free a couple splinters I had in my hand. It was also very managable, though, and highly entertaining. It actually seemed to get easier to shoot as the box of ammo dwindled–I don’t know if it was because I was getting used to it or because my hand was going numb! I went through 50 158 grain standard velocity rounds and 5 130 grain +p rounds. I couldn’t really tell the difference between them–could the extra weight of the standard velocity rounds canceled out the added velocity of the +p’s? Or perhaps I just wasn’t paying attention. By the end I was getting my groups down into reasonable sizes, but obviously need some more work:

I just used this target because it’s what I found in the bottom of my range bag–didn’t actually run the dot torture test.

The squares are from one cylinder’s worth (I was aiming at the 3 circle), and the circles are from the next (aiming at the 9), in case you were wondering.

And now some empty brass and a dirty revolver:

Am I OCD? Well, let me just say that after I took this picture I put all the spent brass safely one by one back into the carton.

After I put the revolver away I ran a couple of magazines through my XD just so I didn’t forget how to use it–My Word the trigger is so much lighter on it than the revolver! Then I switched to my dad’s buckmark, and was surprised again how easy it is to shoot. I think I went about this all wrong… aren’t you supposed to START with the .22 and work your way up to the heavier recoiling things?

Then as I was driving away I stopped to take this picture, just to give you an idea of of the area:

Nice. huh?

So there’s my meandering thoughts after my first time shooting the 642. Stout but manageable, and I like it a lot. Really, a lovely pocket gun. I am still thinking about some different grips–something roughly the same size as these stock ones, but a with little bit more width to them–any suggestions?

Oh! all of you poor single men,Don’t ever give up in despair,For there’s always a chance while there’s lifeTo capture the hearts of the fair,No matter what may be your age,You always may cut a fine dash,You will suit all the girls to a hairIf you’ve only got a moustache,A moustache, a moustache,If you’ve only got a moustache.

No matter for manners or style,No matter for birth or for fame,All these used to have something to doWith young ladies changing their name,There’s no reason now to despond,Or go and do any thing rash,For you’ll do though you can’t raise a cent,If you’ll only raise a moustache!A moustache, a moustache,If you’ll only raise a moustache.

You head may be thick as a block,And empty as any foot-ball,Oh! your eyes may be green as the grassYou heart just as hard as a wall.Yet take the advice that I give,You’ll soon gain affection and cash,And will be all the rage with the girls,If you’ll only get a moustache,A moustache, a moustache,If you’ll only get a moustache.

I once was in sorrow and tearsBecause I was jilted you know,So right down to the river I ranTo quickly dispose of my woe,A good friend he gave me adviceAnd timely prevented the splash,Now at home I’ve a wife and ten heirs,And all through a handsome moustache,A moustache, a moustache,And all through a handsome moustache.

It’s about time to check in on the little cheepers. I cleaned out their box this morning, and so they were temporarily put in a little green plastic bin. It’s funny when they have new experiences, they make quite a ruckus.